


Order's Heirs

by TheJudicator (EmperorsVornskr)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic Fluff, Emperor Armitage Hux, Family Fluff, I'm posting them as I write them according to inspiration, M/M, Protective Kylo Ren, Soft Kylux, Trans Armitage Hux, Trans Pregnancy, Twin Bond, it's indulgent fluff don't ask just enjoy, kid fluff, these aren't in chronological order
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 08:08:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22846921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmperorsVornskr/pseuds/TheJudicator
Summary: Armitage usually gets what he wants- especially from Kylo Ren. So what happens when Armitage asks Kylo for heirs?
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 11
Kudos: 75





	1. Legacy

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a series of short drabbles that will take place in an AU where Hux is Emperor, Snoke is dead, and he and his beloved Vornskr are married with kids.

Kylo Ren never _wanted_ to be a father. Too afraid of failing his rhetorical child like he believed- or had been led to believe- his father had failed him. Too afraid that he’d lose control and hurt his own flesh and blood the way he lashed out at his environment- even though Armitage pointed out that even in his blind fury, he still knew the difference between expensive tech and irreplaceable life. 

He was also afraid of any children of his being born sensitive to the Force. Afraid of Snoke taking a child from him, taking their life as his own had been taken from him. His agency, his childhood, his sense of self that for so long, had been so confused, so agonising in its mercurial fluidity. Even his mind, his privacy, all stripped away, taken by the constant presence in his mind, where even the tiniest thought of his own had to be guarded, locked away and hidden with constant vigilance and effort to keep it hidden. 

Even after Snoke had died, the result of Armitage’s machinations, scheming and subterfuge, after the Supreme Leader had fallen at the hands of his most powerful Knight of Ren, and the shot of his General’s rifle from the shadows, hidden by a simple lizard-like creature, Kylo still feared what sort of father he would be. If he ever could be called father. He still doubted he had the ability to be anything but a monster, a weapon, collared and tamed by his General- now Emperor... and husband. 

He’d railed, argued, exploded with emotion, when Armitage came to him with his plan, his scheme. He worried about himself, but he worried more about his husband- what would it do to him? Would it hurt him, would it cause irreversible changes that might do him serious mental harm? Even though his husband’s face was tired, drawn with fatigue, shadows hollowing his eyes and cheeks, stress from being harassed by his Senate, his Council, his Court, Kylo couldn’t find himself agreeing with the idea. It was only when Hux held his hands, pressed his face into his neck, and whispered _Please,_ with a desperation, plaintive begging that Kylo had _never_ heard from his Emperor before, did he finally reluctantly agree. Not because Armitage was being hounded, but because he heard the desire, the _need_ in his voice to be a father, to have children, heirs, a legacy, someone to care for and love.  


He still warned his Emperor, his husband, his lover, that he didn’t think he was capable of being a father. Emperor Armitage Hux simply smiled tiredly, and nodded. He knew, but the initial agreement was all he needed at the moment. 

So they tried- Armitage started a whole different regimen of hormones, and they rutted like gizka in a breeding frenzy, though they never needed encouragement before, but this had a more primal, desperate urgency to it that made their lovemaking all the more intense. Despite his misgivings, there was something utterly arousing about fucking with a purpose, of filling his husband with his seed with the goal of making a child, and not just for release, for pleasure- or purposely trying to make a mess because it drove Armitage insane.  


When Armitage finally showed him the results of the blood test a month later- only a month, damn prolific Skywalker blood, he'd joked- Kylo still didn't know what to think. It wasn't entirely real yet. It wasn't until the nausea, the morning sickness, the already irritable Armitage becoming completely and utterly volatile, did Kylo realise this was happening. 

When Armitage's belly grew round, faster than either expected, and the morning sickness didn't let up, Kylo worried Armitage couldn't do this, that he was putting himself in danger. When an ultrasound at four, nearly five months on a belly that looked nearly six along, the doctor pointed out two developing babies in Armitage's womb, and Armitage again commented on prolific Skywalker blood.

Kylo felt his entire galaxy tilt on its axis and spin wildly the night he felt one of the twins kick. He and Armitage were snuggled in bed, Kylo spooning his exhausted spouse, rubbing lotion onto his expanding belly. Armitage was sighing, pressing against Kylo in enjoyment as his vornskr's large protective hands worked over his itchy skin, alternating to the small of his aching back. They both froze when the small jolt went through them- through Armitage's belly, and Kylo's hand. 

They were both silent, waiting, and shortly after, another bit of movement from the other side of Armitage's swollen belly, as the other child stirred. Kylo still wasn't sure how to feel, but it was real, it was happening, and his children, their children, were kicking under their hands in the dark. They'd made two tiny lives, and they were cradled, protected, and growing in the womb of his husband. 

Armitage had refused a natural birth. He'd gone with a caesarean- his tolerance of the dysphoria from the pregnancy had its limits. Kylo hadn't been allowed in the delivery room- his anxiety over the situation was affecting their unborn children. So he'd paced outside the room, growling at anything that moved. Yet when he was called into the room, went to his husband's side, and saw Armitage holding the bundles in his arms, Kylo was frozen. 

He was unable to refuse as his husband placed a child - theirs. His and Armitage’s- in his arms. He stared numbly, blankly, at the baby he now held, wrapped in black and crimson swaddling. He stared at the nose that was unmistakably Armitage’s, the mouth and shock of black hair that was his. His heart pounded as his eyes traced over the chubby cheeks, the tiny fingers that were curled beneath the small soft chin- and as he felt the Force stirring in the infant that was his flesh and blood. He looked at the newborn in Armitage's arms and saw a soft, tiny version of his own nose, Armitage's mouth, and a ridiculously bright patch of red hair.  


“Kylo?” 

Kylo was quiet, still staring, still feeling the connection between himself and his child through the Force, speechless at the sensation, unable to stop the thoughts of _Was this how she felt when I was born?_

“….What did you name them?” He finally managed, feeling his Emperor’s eyes on him, feeling the emotion rolling off him.   


“For now, until they choose their own name, their own gender, the little one in my arms is Sebastian Alexei Hux. The little one in your arms is Ayntharia, after my grandmother.” He paused.

“Ayntharia Padmè Hux,” he said softly as Kylo moved closer to look at his other child. “I thought it would please you, and hopefully, that until our child chooses their own name, it will serve them well as they grow. We will call them Ayn and Seb for short.”  


The Emperor’s Vornskr didn’t reply, lowering his head to press his lips to Ayntharia’s forehead. With that single motion, he swore he would raise these children of his- protect them, guide them, encourage them, never send them away, never second guess their own sense of self, never give them anything less than all his love and protection, and that he would destroy entire systems if anyone or anything threatened to take his and Armitage’s children away from him. Armitage smiled indulgently as Kylo slid into the bed beside him, cradling their children between them.

"Our life is taking a new direction, Kylo. Are you ready?" he asked. 

Kylo swallowed, and the doubt, the numbness, the denial, was all gone. He knew he would make mistakes, but he wouldn't be making them alone, and it would be okay- he wouldn't be doing it alone. 

"I am," he said quietly. "I am because it will be with you."  



	2. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of the twins has a nightmare, and the new parents spend the late night soothing their frightened children.

The room was quiet, dark and warm. Kylo was sprawled on his back snoring softly, his hair a mess of black waves on the pillow. Armitage was halfway sprawled on top of him, arms wrapped around him, using his broad chest as a pillow. Kylo, deep in sleep, didn’t notice that his husband was drooling on his bare chest. Armitage stirred slightly, murmuring in his sleep, and Kylo draped an arm over Armitage’s shoulders, pulling him in close. Armitage mumbled again, sliding a leg over Kylo’s. The Emperor and his Vornskr were content, and deeply asleep, oblivious to the world and everything in it. 

Until a cry rang through the dark of their chambers. 

Kylo started awake, sitting up and displacing Armitage, who likewise was in the process of jerking awake as one of the twins voiced their discomfort. Armitage rubbed his eyes as he sat up, Kylo already disentangling himself from the sheets and getting out of bed.

“Which twin?” Armitage asked as he turned on the lights to fifteen percent, voice thick with sleep. “What’s wrong?”

Kylo didn’t answer, as the other twin added their voice to their sibling’s protests. 

“Both, got it,” Armitage said tiredly, but mildly amused as he padded across the room to pick up Sebastian, Kylo already rocking Ayntharia gently.

“Wet? Hungry?” Armitage asked. Kylo shook his head, frowning. 

“Nightmare,” he replied softly. “Feeling a lot of fear, alarm, and there’s shades of white, black and red.”

“Ayntharia?”

Kylo nodded and nuzzled his nose against his daughter’s, silently sending mental reassurance to her. Armitage pressed kisses to Sebastian’s cheek, murmuring soothingly. 

“What are the nightmares about?” he asked. 

“Not sure. They’re not capable of thoughts yet, just colours, emotions,” Kylo said quietly, moving Ayntharia to rest on his chest, letting her hear his heartbeat. He rubbed small circles over her tiny back and kissing the top of her head. 

“Is she okay? Why is Sebastian crying?” Armitage asked, concerned as he rocked their son in his arms, trying to soothe the fussing baby. 

“Upset because Ayn had a nightmare. They have a bond through the Force as twins,” Kylo said. “They’re going to be connected all their lives.”

Armitage was quiet, making soft sounds to calm their son, stroking his hair and snuggling him on his chest. Kylo moved closer, and the two of them switched infants so that Armitage could take his turn comforting Ayntharia. Armitage murmured her name over and over, trying to project feelings of safety, security and love at his daughter. He did the best he could, given his own state as an anomaly in the Force, and he wasn’t sure if his efforts or having the comfort of both her fathers was what calmed her, but calm she did. Her cries slowly ceased, and with a small burble, she nuzzled against Armitage’s chest. In Kylo’s arms, Sebastian let out what could only be a sound of relief, his own cries of distress ending when his twin was calm again. 

He felt a small pang of regret as Ayntharia nuzzled, seeking to suckle, but her father had nothing for her in that regard. Armitage had made sure in his younger years to remove tissue that might relate to lactation- he knew he’d want children eventually, but the idea of chest-feeding any children had crossed a line of dysphoria he wasn’t able to cope with. It was a decision he didn’t regret as far as his personal well-being was concerned, but he did feel remorseful he couldn’t give that small bit of comfort to his child when they needed it. He cradled Ayn in one arm and put a finger in one of her tiny hands. She instantly pulled his finger to her tiny mouth and sucked on it as if her life depended on it. 

“Should get her a pacifier, maybe?” Kylo suggested. Armitage sighed. 

“It’s times like this I almost regret my surgeries,” he admitted. Kylo shook his head. 

“Don’t. You wouldn’t be doing the bond with our children any favours if you were having dysphoria from feeding them. You might have ended up resenting them.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Armitage protested as Ayn continued suckling noisily on his index finger. His protest was half-hearted; he knew Kylo was right, despite what he said otherwise, and that fact made him feel awful. 

“Maybe not, but you wouldn’t enjoy it, and they would have known,” Kylo retorted, moving to the small fridge where they kept the twins’ formula and fishing out two bottles to warm up- all while still resting Sebastian against his chest. 

The domestic sight made Armitage’s stomach flutter with adoration- Kylo Ren, in a pair of boxers, hair a mess, with a baby resting against his chest, cradled and protected in one large hand as he warmed up two bottles of formula. 

“I finally, utterly and totally domesticated you, my wild vornskr,” Armitage said quietly. Kylo grunted in amusement. 

“Happens when you gave me pups to raise,” he said tenderly. “Hold Seb?”

Armitage took Sebastian, which removed his finger from Ayntharia’s reach, and caused her to fuss- but only for a moment, for as soon as she felt the presence of her brother, she calmed. 

“They’re Force sensitive, aren’t they?” Hux asked quietly. Kylo grunted, testing the temperature of the formula on his wrist.

“Yeah. No doubts about it,” he said sombrely. He reached out his hands. “Which one?”

Ayntharia immediately squirmed, hearing Kylo’s voice closer to her vicinity, and he laughed. Armitage handed her over, smirking. 

“Clearly, she is playing favourites,” he said in false indignation as Kylo handed him a bottle for Sebastian. 

“Well, so is Seb,” he retorted, putting the bottle to Ayn’s mouth, and grunting in satisfaction as she immediately began to suck at the bottle greedily. Armitage offered the bottle he held to Seb, who took a moment to decide if he was hungry, and whether his hunger asserted itself, or the sounds of his twin eating with gusto changed his mind, he finally dug in. 

Armitage and Kylo settled back into bed, leaning against the headboard as they fed their twins, Armitage pressing close against Kylo and tangling a leg between his. Kylo turned his head and pressed a long kiss to Armitage’s mouth before pressing his forehead against his husband’s. 

“I’ll have to train them,” he finally said into the quiet that was only broken by the sound of two contented infants eating. 

“…as knights of Ren?” Armitage asked hesitantly. Kylo grunted a negative. 

“No. Just to use their abilities, hone their strengths. I wasn’t given a choice in my path- many times. Told to be a Jedi, forced to kill to be a knight of Ren. I won’t do that to our children. They will chose what they want.”

“And if they don’t want to use their abilities? What if they want to be politicians, or military?”

“Then they’ll have the edge over everyone else in their field, because they will wield the Force,” Kylo replied. 

He set the now empty bottle aside and moved Ayntharia to his shoulder, patting her back gently. Their tiny daughter let out a very loud burp for a one month old, and Kylo Ren, Vornskr of the First Order’s Emperor, former Master of the Knights of Ren, Jedikiller and masked horror that struck fear into the hearts of his foes, _giggled_ in amusement. 

Armitage smiled, toes curling in domestic bliss, then looked down as he felt wetness trickling down his chest. His son had fallen asleep, still making sucking motions around the nipple, and formula pooled in the corners of his tiny mouth, dribbling over his tiny face and onto Armitage’s chest. 

“Hand me a cloth?” he asked, pulling the bottle gently from Seb’s mouth and setting it aside.

Kylo handed him a soft cloth, and Armitage wiped his son’s face clean before drying off his chest and draping the cloth over his shoulder. Seb fussed as Armitage moved him for a gentle burping- and promptly spit up a little, having had too much while dozing off. Kylo took the now filthy cloth from Armitage and handed Ayntharia to him so he could deposit it in the hamper. Armitage cuddled his children, kissing the top of each tiny head, inhaling the soft, powdery, milky smell of their hair and soft clean skin. 

Kylo came back to the bed and took Seb from his husband, checking the baby’s diaper, and Armitage did the same with Ayn. Both infants were dry- for the moment. They’d likely need changing in a few more hours. Kylo took Ayntharia and tucked both babies back into their crib- they shared a large crib, the twins being unable to sleep if separated. Armitage watched fondly as Kylo tucked them in tenderly, the tall broad man looming over his children. Kylo blinked, catching his spouse’s stare.

“What?” he asked, coming back to bed. 

“You,” Armitage said, pressing close and nuzzling under his chin. “You’re utterly perfect with our babies, you know that?”

Kylo grinned wolfishly as he waved his hand, turning off the lights with the Force. He nipped at Armitage’s neck and growled.

“Maybe we should make some more.”

“We had them less than two months ago, are you serious?” Armitage demanded. Kylo laughed.

“I want a million babies with you, Armitage,” he said, rolling over on top of his husband to straddle his hips, grinding his slowly building arousal into Armitage’s groin. “Let’s get started making the next set of twins- or if we’re lucky, triplets.”

Armitage grabbed his pillow and smacked Kylo in the face with it. Kylo laughed and pushed the pillow aside, moving in to kiss and nip at Armitage’s mouth. 

“I love you,” he whispered in the dark against Armitage’s lips. 

“I love you, too, you insufferable man,” came the reply. 

They fell silent, Kylo pressing Armitage into the mattress, into the pillows, melting into each other in the dark, enjoying one another in the few quiet moments they had before their children woke again. 


	3. Sleep, Interrupted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux can't get sleep with overactive twins in his belly, so Kylo indulges him with some TLC.

“You’re awake.”

Kylo’s voice was thick with sleep as he lifted his head, dragged out of slumber by the restless tossing and turning of his spouse. Armitage snorted, exhausted. 

“So are your children.”

A thick black eyebrow rose.

“ ** _My_** children?” 

“Only a child of Kylo Ren would use his father’s kidney as a punching bag,” Armitage groaned, sitting up and rubbing his left flank. “Or purposely kick her father’s full bladder for an hour straight without rest. Lights, forty percent.”

The lights came on, low enough to prevent overstimulation, but bright enough to ensure a safe trip out of bed. Kylo rolled over to get within reach of his lover, a large hand cradling Armitage’s lower back as he fell backwards, his centre of gravity thrown off by the weight of their unborn twins. Armitage grumbled a grateful, but incoherent thanks before practically waddling to the ‘fresher. Kylo watched him go, an indulgent, affectionate smile on his lips. 

“They’re your kids, too,” he called, getting out of bed and to their adjoining kitchenette to make Armitage a mug of decaffeinated tarine tea. He heated the mug quickly, using the Force to coax the water to boil, then added some vitamin drops and a packet of obstetrician-approved painkillers to the bitter drink. 

Armitage’s lower back was almost always hurting him since he’d reached the five month mark, and he was having difficulty sleeping. It had taken his OBGYN some practice and research to find a cocktail of drugs that were effective on his pain without affecting the twins. 

Most of it was a mix of various powdered tree bark- some of which Kylo had secretly suggested to the doctor, as he’d learned about them while training with his uncle. Armitage didn’t know, but Kylo had the feeling he wouldn’t care, as it worked- especially when paired with hot compresses and massages delivered by Kylo’s large, capable hands. 

“Not right now, they’re not,” Armitage groused over the sound of flushing, and water running as he washed his hands. He padded out of the ‘fresher a few moments later, and Kylo paused in the middle of stirring his lover’s tea, taken aback by how endearing he looked. 

Armitage’s hair wasn’t gelled back in place, but mussed and chaotic. His eyes were heavy-lidded, sleep still trying to pull him back into its embrace. His cheeks were flushed, and the sleep shirt he wore was too small, the hem rolled up over the top of his swollen belly. 

Armitage had hated the shirt when Phasma gave it to him as a joke. He didn’t mind the black shirt itself with a pair of cartoon Anooba puppies on it, but he DID mind that she had added “First Order Puppies in Development” on it in fabric paint underneath the Anooba. Kylo, however, had found it delightful and hilarious, given how Armitage often called him “His Vornskr.” 

Armitage had found it handed it to him more often than he liked when Kylo helped him get dressed for bed, and it eventually became his “main sleeping shirt,” even though it was now too small to keep his expanding belly covered. 

Kylo had already asked Phasma to find another one to replace it- for now, he enjoyed seeing Armitage look completely mussed in a shirt too small, his belly poking out over the waistband of his black pyjama pants, his feet bare on the carpet. 

“You love them,” Kylo returned, pressing the warm mug into Armitage’s hands and sliding an arm around his lower back to help him back into bed. Armitage sniffed the mug’s contents and made a low grateful sound in his throat before taking a long sip. 

“More than anything,” Armitage agreed. 

He was still as Kylo piled pillows behind his back, drinking the tarine tea drowsily, contentedly, now that he was back in bed with pillows behind him and hot bitter tea in his hands that he knew was spiked with his painkillers. He winced and rubbed at his belly as one of the twins gave an indignant kick- which spurred the other one to respond in kind. 

“They’re kicking each other again,” Armitage groaned before taking another long sip of tea, hoping the warmth of the liquid in his stomach would calm the twins down from their in utero bickering. 

“They’re running out of room in there,” Kylo replied as he moved to Armitage’s feet, pulling the hem of his pants legs up and examining his ankles. 

They were mildly swollen, but not too bad. Kylo had been nervous about Armitage’s pregnancy- it was high risk, given how long Armitage had been on testosterone, how he’d had to jump start his ovaries again to produce after nearly twenty years of being dormant. The risks were high- both for Armitage, and their children- and Kylo was taking no shortcuts in ensuring his husband was well, and had as little stress as possible. 

“Feet hurt?” He asked, looking at him questioningly. Armitage wiggled his toes, and shrugged. 

“No more than usual.”

That was enough for Kylo to use the Force to yank the bottle of lotion from the night stand and start massaging a liberal amount into the bottoms of Armitage’s feet, and around his swollen ankles. 

Armitage, finished with his tea, set the empty mug on the night stand and leaned back into the pillows with a grateful moan, pressing his feet into Kylo’s hands. He rested his own hands on his bare belly, his palms still warm from holding the mug. The warmth soothed the twins, who settled down a bit from their restless stirring- which only made Armitage relax more. 

Kylo finished massaging Armitage’s feet and doled out another dollop of lotion. He gently pushed Armitage’s hands aside and began tenderly rubbing the lotion into the taut skin of his swollen belly. His long fingers worked the cream into the skin, smoothed over every freckle and caressed the curve of his husband’s precious cargo growing safely inside. The twins settled down completely, feeling their father’s hands over them, and Armitage sighed in affectionate frustration. 

“They’re so good for you,” he groused. Kylo chuckled and kissed Armitage’s bellybutton- there wasn’t much to it at this point, just a dimple in his stomach that Kylo found utterly endearing. 

“Because they know I’ll let them get away with anything and everything,” he said fondly. “You’re gonna be the hard-ass dad.”

Armitage started to make a face, to protest, then lifted his brows, rolled his eyes, and sighed in admittance. 

“Because you won’t discipline them or teach them to _have_ discipline, you mean,” he griped, his tone playful. 

“I will! With the Force, in any case,” Kylo said, grinning before kissing a trail up the curve of Armitage’s belly, then moving to his side to nuzzle into his neck, greedily inhaling his scent. Armitage smelled of sleep, their warm slept-in bed, tiny traces of his cologne, tarine tea, and clean sweat. 

He also had this delicious, irresistible tang under his normal scent that curled in Kylo’s nose and made him hungry- not for food, but to have that scent in his nose at all times, to bury his face in it and drink it in, memorise it and paint the inside of his nose with it. 

That, or lick Armitage’s skin and pin him to the bed in order to make him sweat and intensify the scent. Kylo figured it was the scent of his hormones from the pregnancy, but it drove him wild in so many ways. It didn’t help that his cunt smelled twenty times more delicious with his pregnancy- Kylo had always loved the scent of his musk, especially after sex, but now? It was enough to have his mouth water and his cock go hard if he wasn’t careful. 

Armitage, ignorant of Kylo’s attempts to drown in his scent- or purposely ignoring his actions altogether- murmured drowsy, affectionate nothings as he pressed against Kylo, pinning his stomach between them, and Kylo wrapped his arms around his partner, his love, the father of his children. 

“You’ll be a good father,” Armitage said almost dreamily, rubbing his nose against Kylo’s neck, inhaling the warm, sleepy scent of him, fingers trailing over his bare upper arm. 

“So will you, Armitage,” Kylo reassured him.

Armitage was quiet for a moment, going slack against Kylo, who kissed Armitage’s messy hair, thinking that hopefully, he was falling asleep again. A few minutes passed, and he himself was starting to doze off, when Armitage stiffened and let out a frustrated moan that bordered on a sob. 

“What is it? Are you okay?”

“I have to _pee_ **_again_ ** **.** ”

  
  



	4. Dinnertime and Bathtime Are Ordeals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux is attempting to wean the twins- who have learned their favourite new word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The twins are about 18 months in this chapter. A reminder that these are not in chronological order. 
> 
> **This iteration of Hux is an AU of Hux in my Order series, and in that, Hux is an anomaly in the Force in that he has naturally occurring passive defences against Force users, and is harder, if not impossible to read/mind probe, etc. Physically, he can be affected by the Force, such as being choked, thrown, etc, but his mind is naturally and passively shielded because the Force sort of slips past him and doesn't notice him- like a void.

Armitage Hux was Emperor of the First Order. Starkiller. Conqueror of the galaxy. Commander of the greatest fleet in galactic history. He’d come from nothing as a bastard, helped form the First Order, tamed Kylo Ren, fired the shot that had ended Snoke’s life, liberated his Vornskr, and rose as Emperor. 

Yet at this moment, Emperor Armitage Hux was defeated by the messy, sticky and flailing hands of two stubborn, indignant toddlers. 

“No!”   
  


It was their favourite word, and it always came in unison. 

“Come, now, Seb, Ayn. You need to finish your dinner,” Armitage pleaded, holding out a spoon in each of his hands towards the messy faces of his twins. 

The twins sat in a double high chair with a singular, shared tray, but their seats were divided to prevent gaps through which they could slide out of and escape. Said tray was covered in the majority of their meal- as was their hands, their round faces, their bibs, the clothes underneath, their hair, their feet, the floor…. The walls nearest to them- and furthest from them…. 

….and all over their father.

Armitage did his best to look as dignified as he could, given how he was splattered in pureed triticale and brualki. Kylo had snorted at how expensive the dishes were that Armitage had made into baby food, but Armitage wouldn’t hear otherwise- his children would eat better than he did growing up, and he’d be damned if they looked as thin and weak as he did as a child. 

Not if he could help it, in any case. 

“One more bite, please?” he asked, trying to push the spoonful into Ayn’s mouth. 

“No!” she chirped, and Armitage shoved it into her mouth when she opened it to repeat herself. 

Sebastian burbled and laughed at his sister’s disdain, clapping his sticky hands- and Armitage took advantage of the distraction to shove the other spoon into his mouth. Seb immediately went red faced, his cheeks puffing out, and Armitage sighed, pulling up the stained cloth as a shield.

Just in time- Seb blew out his mouthful in a loud raspberry, and Ayntharia followed suit, the two of them giggling like co-conspirators. Hux sighed and lowered the cloth to see Ayntharia running her chubby fingers over Seb’s cheek, getting baby food on her hands- and shoving them in her mouth. 

“So you’ll only eat it if you’re wearing it, noted,” Armitage said in exasperation and defeat, watching as his children pawed at the mess on each other’s faces, delighted in the game. 

“Dinner time looks like a smashing success,” Kylo said behind him. 

“Smashing. That is definitely a word I would have used about ten minutes ago. Now it’s… artistically done,” Armitage replied, moving to the counter to get a fresh towel, wetting it in the sink and approaching the high chair. 

“No!” The twins said in unison, knowing the fun was over, and a face cleaning was impending. 

“Yes,” Armitage said firmly. “You are two of the messiest little gizka I have ever seen.”

“Noooo!” Seb protested- and the cloth was yanked from his father’s hand in mid air, then tossed to the floor. 

Armitage picked it up, sighing, and renewed his approach. 

“We can have a bubble bath with your varactyls if you let me wipe your face and hands, my sticky little gizka,” he coaxed. 

“No!” Ayn said, sounding angry- and the spoon flew from the tray, and hit her father on the cheek.

Kylo, who had been watching with amusement by the door, strode over immediately, his face all business, and his projected emotions clear to his twins, as they both went still and quiet at his approach. Two sets of eyes- brown and green- looked up at him, worried. 

“No. You don’t throw things at your father, Ayntharia,” Kylo said softly, kneeling in front of the chair to be at eye level. 

There was a moment of silence when the twins stared at Kylo, and he stared right back at them, his expression serious. Ayntharia looked at her father, who was daubing at the red mark on his cheekbone with the damp towel. Her little brows knit into a frown, her lower lip quivered.

She and Sebastian simultaneously burst into tears. 

“No, babies, it’s okay, I’m okay!” Armitage soothed, kissing the tops of their sticky, messy heads. “Father’s okay, I promise. It’s okay, my babies.”

He shot a glare at Kylo. 

“What did you do?” he growled softly. 

“I let Ayntharia feel the pain she caused by throwing the spoon at you. She needs to know she can’t use the Force to do what she wants to get what she wants, whenever she wants,” Kylo said patiently, pulling Ayntharia from the high chair, completely ignoring how she was getting a mix of baby food, tears and snot all over his tunic. 

“Kylo, babies have a much lower pain threshold than adults, you can’t just let her feel my pain and expect it to be okay!” Armitage said, taken aback as he wiped at Sebastian’s tears tenderly, wiping his little fists before kissing them and lifting him out of the chair. 

Seb instantly buried his red face into his father’s stained tunic, still bawling. Armitage sighed and rubbed his back, shooting a Glare at his husband. 

“I filtered most of it, I only let her feel a little- never mind it was hard to get a feel on it, given your weird force anomaly thing you do,” Kylo said, looking a little repentant, which was a start. 

Armitage sighed. 

“Help me get these two into a bath?” he asked, heading for the ‘fresher. 

Kylo followed obediently, and ten minutes- and a small, but quickly won argument- later, Armitage and Kylo were in the huge tub of the master refresher, with a twin in their lap. Armitage immediately set to washing Seb’s hair the moment he was distracted with a rubber duck, and Kylo hid his intentions with Ayn’s hair by swirling it into various styles with bubbles and the Force, eliciting giggles from both twins 

“They’re such messes,” Armitage sighed, gently using a washcloth to wipe a smear off Seb’s cheek. 

The toddler squirmed in his arms, and he gave up for a few moments, setting the cloth aside. Before Seb could make another attempt at escape, Armitage lifted him up and blew a raspberry on his round belly. Seb shrieked in delight, and Ayn flailed her fists at Kylo, a silent demand to be lifted and given the same round of fun. Kylo tossed her in the air, soaking everyone in the tub, caught her with the Force, and blew a very loud, very long and very obnoxious raspberry on her belly. 

Ayntharia’s shrieks rang in her fathers’ ears, and Seb matched them with a clamourous reply of his own. Armitage finally abandoned his attempt at reigning in his son, and let him go to splash in the water and try to smear bubbles over his sister’s face. At least with bubbles, instead of baby food, they’d clean each other, in some small fashion. 

Kylo reached out with a cloth and wiped gently at Armitage’s face and hair, ignoring how their twins fell into his lap with squeals of delight as they attempted to fling bubbles everywhere. . 

“They really did a number with that meal, didn’t they?” he chuckled, kissing his husband once his face was clean. He caressed the red mark Ayn’s fit had left, and coaxed some of the Force into the skin, soothing the red swelling down. 

“Well, they used the meal to do a number on the kitchen, yes. There’s a reason they don’t eat in the dining room yet.” 

Kylo paused to pick Seb up before he fell face first into the water, righted him, then let him go so he could resume playing. Ayn was completely soaked, but for the most part, looked clean, which was good enough for Kylo- even if Armitage was likely itching to give them both a serious scrubbing, if not himself. 

“Move the kiddos, turn around and let me wash your hair, Armitage,” Kylo said quietly. 

There were a few moments of splashing and sloshing, punctuated by grunts from both parents and giggles from the twins and they wrangled them up and moved them to the shallow end of the tub. Armitage turned to face his twins and keep an eye on them as Kylo tilted him back, poured warm water over his head and worked shampoo into his hair. 

“That’s good,” he all but purred as Kylo worked his fingers over his scalp, occasionally using his nails. Kylo smiled, massaging Armitage’s scalp, working up a thick lather with the shampoo. The twins spotted the mass of foam on their father’s head and giggled in delight. 

“See, I got your father, too!” Kylo declared. “Now we’re all clean!”

And then he dumped water over Armitage’s head, who sputtered in surprised amusement as the twins let out peals of delighted laughter. 

“You butt,” he said lovingly. Kylo kissed the back of his neck. 

“You know you love me,” he replied, just as lovingly. 

Armitage examined the twins’ fingers and feet. Getting wrinkled. 

“Help me get them out and settled with half a bottle before bed?” he asked, pulling towels off the warming rack and handing two to Kylo.

Kylo scooped Seb out of the water and bundled him into the warm thick towel, kissing the soles of his tiny feet. The kisses helped keep Seb from protesting leaving the tub too much, and Kylo noted his sounds of happiness were tempered with drowsiness. Even Ayn wasn’t putting up much of a fight, nuzzling into the warm towel against Armitage’s chest. 

“Wait. A bottle? They… just ate?” he asked. Armitage sighed. 

“Most of it is on me, the floor, the walls, and the twins. I think they only ate about fifteen percent of it. If only they took to weaning as fast, or half as well as they took to the word No.”

“No!” Both twins chimed in, all drowsiness gone in an instant.

Armitage sighed, and Kylo laughed as they headed into the bedroom to prepare for another battle to get the twins into bed. 


End file.
